one in a series of judgment calls
by varry inarestin
Summary: those who forgot they can't swim until they jumped in the ocean. NJ/EM


To read is human, to review is divine…feedback is love!

This is an odd Norman/Ethan fic just because I looooooove this pair and I felt like it needed more fic. Oh, SELF.

I'm thinking of writing a chaptered one, too. Currently just working it up in my head. Come on, guys, show me your support of this pairing!

* * *

**one in a series of judgment calls**

Norman Jayden didn't consider himself a strong man.

When he accomplished things he received the praise for it, yeah. He could take credit where it was due. Good work, Jayden, how'd you figure that out, Jayden, you're a hero, Agent Jayden, and so on. And he accomplished things a lot, but at the base of it he was still the same guy and he never seemed to grow; guy who can't resist temptation and has the worst damn judgment almost all the time, when it didn't come to work.

Yeah, that was him. He knew that, that he had zero to none on the scale of strength of character, when it didn't come to his job, helping keep the right people in jail and the wrong people out of it – an agent in keeping the order in lives that were actually worthwhile, that had to be worthwhile according to him. And which were completely removed from his own. Normal people, normal lives – hell, not even normal, but lives with substance, with a path and a history, going somewhere and coming from somewhere. Norman didn't know much about it himself, moving from phase to phase in life and caught now between the case work and the escape mechanisms that defined him.

No, he wasn't strong. That was mainly because he was a smart guy, intelligent – thank you very much – and still did the most idiotic shit; got himself addicted to drugs, at the very worst, and generally handled _that _poorly...tended to provoke the wrong people and always managed to put himself headfirst in these downright stupid situations, places he had no business ever being.

So there he was in one of the shittier parts of Philadelphia, laid back under a man he'd only really met a week ago. For what Norman was assuming was a one-night stand, he was getting it real slow, not even fully undressed there; just reclined back with his shirt open and slacks yanked down to his knees, a man's face against his neck and a hand firmly, slowly stroking him to hard. Norman let out a breath, the barest expression of enjoyment. And leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

"You're not hesitatin'," he noted quietly, feeling lips press absently over the tense muscle in his neck. "You really sure about this?"

"What do I have to be unsure about?" Ethan mumbled, palm dragging over the underside of his length, then the end. Norman let his hips jerk up, grinned nervously, managed a sound of amusement under his breath.

"An' you tell me you've never been with a man behfore."

Ethan lifted his head from Norman's neck, smiled at him tiredly, wrapping his fingers around him. He was focused, skilled, but Norman could tell – not experienced, not really. There was something real different about him. A guy who's new to this, you'd expect a little more hesitation or for him to call it off altogether. You know, something more normal.

Not that Norman really knew what that was, even if he's been studying that since college. But his specialty was in the grades of deviance in people. Criminal minds. Criminal profiling, right? It should have come along with knowing what could make a harmless guy like this tick, but why bother studying that?

"Ah...Christ..." Norman tipped his head back again. "Just like that." Ethan's touch was foreign; sweet. The guy started to move down, and Norman looked back down, grasping his shoulder. "You don't needa do any more than this, Ethan." Their eyes met, and Ethan had this plain _well, your loss_ expression that made Norman grin again, just for a second. Ethan came back up, surprised Norman even more with a kiss, instead. It was slow, relaxed, like the hand still stroking him.

Norman went with it. Fuck, he always kind of tried to resist this stuff but he was weak to it in the end, he put himself right in the middle of a situation where something he didn't really want was going to happen and it just happened anyway – he couldn't beat his first instincts, had nothing and no one in his life to motivate him to avoid the things he probably should have.

Ethan was bearing down harder into the kiss and Norman let his lips part and their tongues met, and that sweet hand squeezed him, thumb sliding over the head. He groaned into Ethan's mouth.

He didn't kiss people much but hell, he'd put himself in the perfect place for it. It was a little more of himself than he would like to give anyone, but he was also kind of adjusted too much to slipping from reality to better things or worse things; to more compelling things, be that something in ARI or doing his job. Outside of his life, he didn't have to focus on the emptiness of it. And hell, when this – whatever this is – was over, he'd be back to that void in a second but he could be gone again, on another planet or in the woods or on a fuckin' mountain with no effort at all, slipping off and out if he didn't want to deal with it.

So this was just another scene for him, just another location he'd logged, but the better part of him knew it was a little more real for Ethan Mars, who was better adjusted by far. But if you looked around this place, maybe it was the same for Ethan, too. While the two of them did this upstairs, the house waited otherwise empty, floor filled with boxes, mostly but not completely packed, waiting to be sent to the new apartment of Ethan and Shaun Mars. The place was obviously waiting to be evacuated. Just like any other place in anyone's past, in anyone's mind; the past was right there and nowhere else, like the forest or the surface of Mars, like the ocean floor or the mountainside. A venue whose sole purpose is to be left behind.

"You're an odd guy, Ethan Mars," Norman said, laying there in the aftermath. He had his eyes closed, he wasn't in a big rush to leave. Ethan was laying beside him on his stomach, cheek rested on his arm, his eyes closed too – still catching his breath, but quiet besides that.

"Take care of yourself," he was telling him thirty minutes later, pulling on his coat in the hall just beside the door. He looked at Ethan, who was standing beside the stairs and watching him quietly, and paused. He didn't intend to be back, not for personal reasons, at least – and Ethan knew that, and... "You really don't mind?"

Ethan kind of squinted at him, and then smiled a little, tiredly. A guy who was resigned to reality while Norman jumped from wherever he was to wherever he needed to be, from distraction to oblivion and back again.

_Such awful fuckin' judgment. I'm such a shithead. Why did I –_

"You take care, too," Ethan said, interrupting his thoughts. Norman faltered.

_This is what I do. I just go without thinking and I take and take, and – fuck, he really did open up to me, didn't he?_

There'd been a short conversation about Ethan that had led up to the whole thing, on Norman's visit; that Ethan was admittedly very alone, on shaky ground, even if he was happy to have his son alive and safe. _Lonely. _Norman knew that his own way of living and being was pretty fucked up, but he felt like there was a little merit in being able to escape overbearing emptiness - so, yeah, he'd tried to show Ethan that, a small escape, a moment of intimacy out of the fuck damn blue with no effort or work to get there, instant and satisfying but not real enough to validate Ethan in the end.

Ethan had too much of a functional fucking brain to get the same thing out of it.

Norman didn't feel good about leaving that day. His intentions had been good, at least. They always were.

* * *

Three days later, Norman was at his door again. Ethan was genuinely surprised to see him.

When he was let in, Norman looked around. "Looks like you're done packin'," he finally said, seeing more boxes than last time, and more of them sealed up now. Even fewer personal touches remaining in the house; it had been legitimately cleared out. The environment still had the same stagnant feel. Just like something straight out of the ARI.

But he was coming back for the guy, not the place. Something real had happened here, or so he was thinking. Even if it had no past and no future, nowhere to go, it was definitely real and Norman was so not used to that. He could try to hold onto it. He did tend to put himself in all these bizarre fuckin' situations.

"Just about done," Ethan agreed, looking around at what Norman was seeing. It had been a lot of work. He then turned his eyes back to him, quietly curious. "...I didn't think I'd be seeing you again." He didn't seem entirely pleased; probably just baffled. Sure, he had a right to be confused.

"Yeah," Norman replied vaguely, holding his eyes. "Uh, neither did I, actually...but."_ Changed my mind? Change of heart? Takin' responsibility? Nah, temptation and a dose of bad judgment. It's my fuckin' MO, after all._ He raised his hands, pressed them together thoughtfully. Glanced aside, wondering –

Ethan sighed. "Shaun is at his mom's."

Norman could have laughed. The hell? "You knew I was gonna – "

"I kind of know why you're here, yes." Ethan rubbed his jaw.

Silence, and –

"It's all right," Ethan added, running that hand back through his hair, now. "I can't say I know why you'd come back here, but – I'm not unhappy to see you."

"Why would you _want _to see me?" Norman wondered more than asked.

"We...slept together," Ethan said, bemused. "I was lonely, yeah, but it wasn't – er, I mean, there's something about you..." He sighed, giving up. "I'm not sure, anyway. I'm attracted to you. But I won't make any demands. Lucky for you, right?" he kind of chuckled, just a bit awkward, and folded his arms pensively, leaning against the stairs railing.

Norman's interest was suddenly in Ethan rather than in finding another place to escape to, to want to return to. Ethan really was a pretty interesting guy. Passive and compliant, but resolved, friendly – er, attractive. _Attractive, yeah. _

Norman heard thunder outside, abruptly. Pourin' down. Lovely. "Er, Ethan..."

Ethan cocked his head down, thought for a second. "I invited you to stay," he clarified, having caught the odd look in Norman's eyes. "I'll be upstairs, so..."

Norman watched him climb the stairs, wondering at the almost indifferent exchange, wondering if Ethan was hiding something and if he should leave, after all. But him and his great decision making skills, he followed him up the wooden stairs, and went to Ethan's bedroom – not the most atmospheric place, after all the packing was done. There were a few boxes stacked in here and the bed was still usable, since Ethan wasn't moving out on the day. Norman started to pull off his jacket. He set it on one of the boxes and walked to Ethan.

Grasped his shoulder, cupped his neck. "Y'know it's not just the sex," he told him, surprised to find no uncertainty in Ethan's eyes – blue as the summer fuckin' sky. Norman missed warm weather.

"Not sure what that means," Ethan noted his bare wording. "But I think I understand." His hands slid to Norman's waist, but he still wasn't smiling. "I think."

Norman kissed him hard. "Good enough for me," he told him, speaking against his lips. "Stop thinkin'."

What they lacked in verbal communication they made up for in the action. Norman focused hard on Ethan; Ethan focused at first on responding, on feeling. Ethan was surprisingly a little aggressive in the exchange, in kissing and touching actively; he was the one who walked them to the bed, even if it was only to get Norman on top of him. He tipped his head back beneath him to keep the kiss going, let it drift from hard and desperate to lilting and slow, then back, firm, Norman's tongue brushing hard into his and drawing a sound from his throat. He tugged on Norman's tie, felt Norman's thigh press between his legs in return. Evidence of his enjoyment right there.

"God, you're really inta' this," Norman breathed, breaking off.

"You thought I was lying?" Ethan replied with a serious look, shifting to allow Norman to pull his shirt off. Clothes, Norman wanted them outta his way. "I want you to, uh...do..." Ethan fumbled, fingers wrapping in Norman's hair. He bent one of his legs up, to explain.

"Gotcha." Norman smiled down at him. Since last time...something was different.

Ethan closed his eyes. God, why smile at him like that? Then, an even more tender gesture; he felt Norman's lips brush his closed eyelids.

"But I'm gonna take it slow, Ethan," he breathed, and Ethan literally shuddered. "We've barely gotten started, yet."

Ethan didn't understand the more personal mood, but he couldn't exactly complain. Norman was good at what he was doing and he aroused Ethan everywhere, had him moving into his touches, had his mouth going dry from breathing so much and so quick, his head swimming, needing him.

It had been a while since Norman had been with a man – hell, anyone at all – so he was a little extra careful about it, about prepping him. But fuck, Ethan _was _attractive, made it hard not to want to rush. He wasn't really remarkable physically, not by normal standards, but Christ – he was hot, he was expressive. He carried his heart on his sleeve.

And Norman was thinking entirely of him, when he pressed one of Ethan's legs back against his shoulder and entered him, even through the unpleasant moments – Ethan wincing, trying to relax his body.

Thank fuckin' god it didn't take long.

"Move..." Ethan sighed, body flushed, head pressing back in the pillows. Norman did, carefully, and Ethan groaned. "God, move," he said.

"Mmm," Norman said, eyes never leaving Ethan's face, his body. Only when he had to close his eyes because it felt god damn perfect. Another way to escape, maybe? This was something he'd want to come back to, or escape back to, whichever way you wanna look at it. It was real, and it wasn't – where the fuck had it come from to qualify as real? – could be everything or nothing depending on your frame of mind.

"_Oh…_" Ethan groaned, hips moving against him. His fingers were digging into Norman's shoulders; Norman rocked into him, shifting closer to get a little deeper. "Ah!" Ethan wrenched his eyes open, face touched with sweat, and yanked him down to kiss him.

Norman hadn't expected that but he went into it fluidly, surprised by the way Ethan kissed him. Somehow, not the way he was moving; not frantic, not needy, but gentle and unrushed, a gesture that Ethan was clearly enjoying. Norman shuddered, rocking faster. He felt Ethan moan into his lips and shut his eyes.

"Shit – Ethan."

"Mm – _mm – _ah - !"

Yeah, right now, he'd call that an escape - but it was one he was alive with. Cause right now his mind was on Ethan, _with _Ethan, and the movement, the heat – Ethan's voice, yeah, that was fucking real. It was fucking beautiful.

"Norman." Ethan bucked, moving jerkily under him. Norman's hand – still holding Ethan's leg bent – nearly slipped at the movement, off the sweat under Ethan's knee. "Norman. Norman." Norman rewarded him for that, grinding right at the angle that he knew Ethan had been looking for, and grasping at his length at once. Ethan yelled. "Norman – Norman - !"

Ethan came hard; Norman was right behind him, gasping and cursing quietly and spilling into him. His head fell to Ethan's shoulder; he could feel Ethan's chest heaving under him.

"Fuck," he sighed, rolling off to Ethan's side. He ran a hand back over his forehead, his hair. Ethan was still, and silent apart from his rough breaths; Norman looked over at him languidly after a moment, just watching him quietly. Man, this guy. His body was scarred and marred and at the moment, weak – but his heart, whatever you wanted to call it, that seemed to always be strong. _Complete opposite of me_, he thought, not minding that. Liking it.

Ethan at the moment really thought that was it. So, he was pretty surprised to feel Norman's lips against his shoulderblade a moment later.

"That was...good."

"Yeah," Ethan yawned.

Another kiss there. "Great," Norman mumbled. "Fantastic."

Ethan sighed, and there was a long silence after that; he just drifted half-asleep, half-thinking, feeling those small kisses keep coming to his upper back and shoulders. Finally, he asked. "What's this all about, Norman?"

"Not too sure," Norman admitted immediately, without hesitation, eyes closed, mouth still against warm skin.

"Then..."

"It's about call me," Norman decided. "It's about this isn't the last time you'll see me."

Ethan shifted, opening his eyes a little, staring at the wall. "Says you?"

Norman grinned against his neck. "Says the way you were moanin' my name."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"I know where I'm wanted," Norman returned quietly, a little more seriously, an arm slowly snaking around Ethan's waist. Complete fuckin' guess, actually, but –

Ethan shifted again like he didn't want that arm, but it was a token effort because of the comment. "Get lost and come back later."

"Later?"

"When Shaun's gone away to college. I'll forget about that comment by then."

"Sensitive guy," Norman noted with a grin, relaxing a little because Ethan wasn't really throwing him off or out. As with everything pleasant in his life he'd have to be leaving this soon, but… "I will be back later," he added. "If you want me to be back. And I mean, for real." Not in however many years, or whatever.

"New address," Ethan corrected. "But...yeah."

Norman hummed. There was a sound for sore ears. "Soon as I can be. Nothin' as long as Shaun goin' away," he clarified.

"That was a joke," Ethan finally smiled, unable to fight amusement, and sleepily dismissed, "I'll trust your judgment."

"You really shouldn't." Norman accepted this, though. His judgment, ha. But that awful fuckin' judgment had landed him here, right? Somewhere nice. With someone _really _nice. It was about as close to real as he'd gotten in a long time.


End file.
